


First Trimester

by here_comes_the_moose



Series: What to Expect When Your Demon's Expecting [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Pregnant Crowley (Good Omens), Surprises, Vomiting, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), and is reading it way too much, he got a pregnancy book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/here_comes_the_moose/pseuds/here_comes_the_moose
Summary: After learning about Crowley's pregnancy, Aziraphale and Crowley go to their first prenatal appointment and deal with one of pregnancy's most joyous symptoms- morning sickness.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: What to Expect When Your Demon's Expecting [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728184
Comments: 5
Kudos: 86





	First Trimester

"So, when do you think our child was conceived?"

Crowley slightly turns his head away from the cool window to glare at Aziraphale, who had insisted on driving since Crowley had woken up horribly dizzy and nauseous that Monday morning. Unfortunately he still had yet to throw up, which would provably have helped him feel better. The demon wasn't sure if the nausea was due to morning sickness or nerves from the appointment they were currently on their way to; it was probably a mix of both. Sister Mary Loquacious would be his provider for the pregnancy that he had learned about last week, since he trusted her and knew she had experience with supernatural pregnancies, so wouldn't be freaked out.

"Mmf, I don't know, angel," Crowley replies, groaning and rubbing his stomach. 

"I was just thinking since I was reading that they tend to ask possible date of conception so they can determine the due date," Aziraphale says casually. Crowley immediately feels more ill when thinking about the due date, which seems so far in the future and yet so close. In less than a year they'll have a baby.

"Maybe it was that disco-themed party," Aziraphale continues. "Dear, you looked ready to discorporate when you saw my outfit. Oh, how delightful it was when we snuck away from the party for a bit to fool around in the car. You were practically undressing me with you eyes in front of our friends, you wily serpent."

"Couldn't help it, you just looked so sexy," Crowley responds, smiling at the memory. "You know how crazy it makes me when you expose your chest like that."

"Oh dear, trust me, I'm very much aware," Aziraphale chuckles, thinking of the first time he had unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves when he and Crowley started officially dating. Crowley had immediately gone bright red and the evening had ended with Aziraphale immediately clearing his papers and books and throwing Crowley down onto his desk. 

Crowley smiles slightly, before wincing and asking, "Aziraphale, could you please take the curves a bit slower? Still feeling a bit sick."

Aziraphale frowns and pats Crowley's leg. "Of course, dear boy."

\---------------

"Master Crowley and Aziraphale, so glad to see you!" Sister Mary says cheerfully, giving both supernatural entities a hug. "Oh dear, you're already glowing!"

"That would probably be sweat," Crowley says, sounding miserable and still with a hand on his stomach.

"Oh you poor thing; morning sickness?" Sister Mary asks, leading them to the exam room and sitting Crowley down in a chair. 

"Dear, it's not morning sickness, he's sick all the time," Aziraphale frets, pulling out his phone and looking at the list he made of questions and concerns. "I read about this condition pregnant individuals can experience and I was concerned by how sick he's been feeling."

"Well, I can assure you it's just regular morning sickness, which can occur at any time," Sister Mary says, measuring Crowley's blood pressure. "I'll check his weight to make sure it's where it needs to be. Has he been able to eat and drink some things?"

"Yes, the things he can eat, he has quite an appetite for," Aziraphale replies. "I've kept a full stock of bagels, carrots, ginger cookies, saltines, and sour patch. Those seem to be the only things that don't make him sick."

"Okay, so that's a good sign," Sister Mary says, also checking Crowley's weight. "Alright, so now you will need to pee in this cup, and then we'll do a blood test."

Crowley scowls at the cup as if it personally offended him, but nevertheless goes into the bathroom and reemerges a few minutes later with the cup, which he hands to Sister Mary. He then sits down in the chair and puts his arm out. As Sister Mary searches for a vein, Aziraphale walks over to hold Crowley's hand; the demon's hand was very clammy, since he had only gotten his blood drawn a few times and had never been fond of it. 

"Alright, here we go, you have amazing veins," Sister Mary says, tying the tourniquet around Crowley's arm and placing a stress ball in his hand. "You need to to squeeze this. You'll just feel a small pinch."

Crowley does in fact feel the pinch and sees the vial begin to fill with blood, which instantly makes him feel a bit lightheaded and more nauseous than he felt already. He slowly looks away and tries to take some deep breaths as the the dizzy feeling grows without worrying Aziraphale or Sister Mary. It doesn't seem to work and he thinks that maybe he should say something about the black spots appearing in his vision, but he's afraid that if he opens his mouth he'll vomit all over the floor and Sister Mary. He feels the needle begin to slide out and has to suppress a gag as the room begins to spin.

"All done, dar- oh Sister Mary, he doesn't look too well. I think he's about to faint!"

Crowley feels himself being reclined (he didn't realize the chair could do that) and hears a cracking sound right before he gets a whiff of something strong-smelling and is immediately brought back to full consciousness.

Just in time to vomit, of course.

Thankfully Aziraphale had decided to invest in some vomit bags (much to Crowley's embarrassment) after the demon and himself had been walking in St. James park, and Crowley had ended up needing to run over to some pushes to discreetly throw up after getting a strong whiff of food from one of the kiosks. The angel immediately pulls one out of his coat the second Crowley gags and hands it to the demon just in time before he begins to throw up. Aziraphale rubs Crowley's back, feeling terrible that he can't do more to help his sick husband and that the condition is partially his fault. 

Once Crowley stops vomiting, he shakily closes the bag and wipes his mouth with the paper towel Sister Mary hands him while Aziraphale disposes of the bag and its contents. Since the demon still looks rather pale and sickly, Aziraphale helps him over to the exam table while Sister Mary sets up the ultrasound machine. Crowley rubs at his stomach, willing it to calm down, and wishes he had something sour to suck on, since that usually helped a bit with the awful nausea.

"Okay, so unbutton your pants and lift your shirt. Also, this might be a bit cold," Sister Mary says. Crowley lifts his shirt and unbuttons his pants, which is a bit of a relief since they're already beginning to feel too tight around his middle. Being a bit on the thinner side (Aziraphale was always fussing making sure the demon was eating enough, but he was just naturally skinny), the small bump was definitely a bit more noticeable. Though he also wasn't sure how much of the swelling around his middle could be attributed to the baby, since he had been feeling pretty bloated recently and knew the baby was still very small. He probably also hadn't gained much weight since he was throwing up so much. 

Sister Mary squirts the gel, which is in fact very cold, onto his belly and he shivers. She then moves the wand around to spread the gel and also to search for the baby. A loud whooshing, thudding sound echoes through the room and the two supernatural entities look at Sister Mary.

"The heartbeat," she says. "Though this sounds quite odd, let me get a better look."

Crowley feels his heart begin to race as his stomach sinks. Is there something wrong with their baby? Is his or her heart okay? He feels a bit sick. Aziraphale grabs his hand and begins to rub his thumb over Crowley's knuckles.

"Oh goodness!" Sister Mary exclaims. She then turns the machine to face Crowley and Aziraphale and points to the screen. "Well, there's the answer. Here, take a look. You see that little shape there? And this shape here? Those are your babies! The heartbeat sounded strange because there were _two_ heartbeats. Congratulations!"

"Oh dear, this is wonderful!" Aziraphale exclaims, kissing Crowley's forehead with tears in his eyes. 

"Well, angelic sperm must count for something," Crowley chuckles, causing Aziraphale to roll his eyes fondly. 

"Well, we can look a bit more, but everything looks pretty good here so far, and you seem to be somewhere between nine and ten weeks along" Sister Mary says. "How many photos would you both like?"

"Just one for us is fine," Crowley replies. He and Aziraphale had decided to wait a bit to tell their friends the news until after the first trimester, as per the advice of their pregnancy book. Crowley wasn't sure if demons could miscarry but he wasn't taking any risks.

"Alright, I'll get that printed, and here's a towel for that gel," Sister Mary says, handing Crowley a paper towel before printing the ultrasound photo. Crowley wipes the gel from his stomach, smiling.

\--------------

"Angel, please pull over."

They left the former convent about fifty minutes ago and are halfway back to London when Crowley starts feeling decidedly unwell again. Aziraphale noticed how his husband was rubbing his stomach in small circles and had been growing paler, but Crowley had just brushed it off, hoping it would pass. That had been ten minutes ago, and now Crowley was groaning and had a hand clamped over his mouth as Aziraphale looked for a spot to pull over.

"Oh dear, grab one of the bags from the glove compartment," Aziraphale says just in case he can't pull over in time because this _lovely individual_ decided that no, he would not be allowing Aziraphale to switch into his lane, thank you _so very much for that_. Normally, Aziraphale would have sped up and cut him off, since he can get road rage like no one's business, but given how tetchy the babies were making Crowley's stomach he figured it was best to just wait for that car to pass.

Crowley quickly opens the glove compartment and takes out a bag, immediately bringing it up to his mouth and hunching over. _Ugh, another two and a half weeks of this._ Crowley thinks to himself as another awful wave of nausea washes over him. _Assuming I'm not one of the unlucky ones who get it longer._ His stomach twists.

Aziraphale is finally able to park on the shoulder next to some grass and says, "Alright dear, here we are, I'll unlock-" Crowley lurches forward and vomits into the bag. "-the door."

\--------------

Crowley doesn't throw up for the rest of the ride home, although Aziraphale can tell Crowley is still very nauseous. Once they get home, however, Aziraphale hasn't even put the car in park before Crowley is rushing out and miracleing the doors of the bookshop open so he can run inside. Aziraphale sighs before he parks and exits the car, making sure to lock it before going inside. He finds Crowley in the bathroom hugging the toilet as expected and wonders how the demon could still be getting sick as he lowers himself to the ground to rub Crowley's back.

"Oh dear, you're really not feeling well are you?" Aziraphale coos, brushing back Crowley's fringe.

"Shuddup, 's your fault," Crowley whines, pressing his cheek against the cool porcelain. "Looking the way you did, chest exposed like that. You were practically inviting me to get knocked up."

"Yes, I know, I'm a terrible, bad angel whose temptation you just couldn't resist," Aziraphale says fondly, still rubbing Crowley's back. "Come on, let me help you rinse out your mouth and I'll tuck you into bed with the mop bucket on your side."

"Let's wait a bit, I might be here a while," Crowley groans before burying his head in the toilet bowl once more.

\--------------

"I got you these from the store."

Crowley sluggishly lifts his head from under the covers and sees Aziraphale standing in the doorway with some ginger cookies and a giant bag of sour patch. After feeling a bit less likely to throw up at any movement, Crowley had gone, with Aziraphale's help of course, to lie down in their bed and take a nap. He was definitely taking a lot more naps recently, since growing two babies was tiring work; he felt like even going downstairs left him exhausted and in need of at least a two hour nap. 

For some reason, however, this last attempt at a nap had been a failure since his stomach just felt way too upset to let him rest. He wasn't nauseous, per se, but his stomach was definitely not happy. After expressing this to Aziraphale, the angel had consulted the pregnancy book, which had told him that being hungry could make expectant mothers dealing with morning sickness feel worse. This had led to Aziraphale rushing to the store to buy ginger cookies and sour patch, since they were the only foods from the "usually safe for Crowley's demonic morning sickness" list that didn't make the demon pale further. Aziraphale had also picked up some other things for Crowley when the old lady who ran the shop suggested some things to him that could help when Aziraphale had told her that his spouse's morning sickness was extremely bad today. She had sent him on his way with many different teas, some hard sour candies for Crowley to suck on, some motion sickness bands, some ginger lollipops, and a lemon. The lady had said that when she had been pregnant with her third, the scent of lemons helped with her nausea, and Aziraphale was willing to try anything to help Crowley feel less awful. Plus, the angel also didn't have the heart to say no to her.

"Well, lemons do smell nice," Crowley says, nibbling on a cookie after Aziraphale has finished explaining everything he bought. "They're also not too strong, so I hopefully won't need to worry about getting a migraine on top of all this."

"Yes, I think the book warned about migraines," Aziraphale says, nodding. "Also, no more sushi dates for us, since the book said raw fish is a big no-no. Also, no oysters or ceviche or smok- oh sorry dear I'll change the subject." Ever since the incident at The Ritz, the couple had come to the realization that the pregnancy had caused Crowley to develop quite an aversion to seafood. Apparently even talking about seafood was enough to make the demon go green around the gills.

"'S fine," Crowley says, waving a hand and swallowing back the queasiness, which thankfully helped. He took another bite of a cookie. "Anathema invited us to her house this Saturday for tea. I think Shadwell and Tracy are invited as well and most likely Adam and his friends will show up."

"Oh, that's nice," Aziraphale says, smiling. "Are you sure you'll feel up to it?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, angel," Crowley replies. "The twins haven't prevented me from enjoying sweets, thankfully, and you know she usually only has sweets at tea. Probably an American thing; I have no idea. Speaking of sweets, please pass me the bag of sour patch."

\--------------

When Saturday morning rolls around, Crowley is delighted when he wakes up feeling fine. He actually feels hungry, but not wanting to risk anything he eats three saltines before getting out of bed (the book had suggested eating a little something before getting out of bed to help with any nausea). He walks into the kitchen to see Aziraphale drinking some cocoa and reading a book that Crowley is willing to bet money is the pregnancy book.

"My dear boy, how are you feeling? You really slept in, it's almost noon," Aziraphale says, rising from the table to kiss Crowley. 

"Wow, no wonder I feel so well-rested," Crowley had been starting most of his days at six or seven because of the morning sickness or needing to pee or some other joyous pregnancy symptom. He then says, "I'm feeling pretty hungry, actually." His stomach then growled loudly to prove his point.

Aziraphale beams and says, "That's good! Let me fix you something to eat. Anything in particular?" "Oh I'd _die_ for some of that French toast you make. That brioche one with strawberries and loads of whipped cream," Crowley is moaning as he can practically taste the toast already. "Are you sure that's alright?" Aziraphale frets, getting up from his chair. "I know dairy products are bad when dealing with tummy troubles and I know sometimes lots of cream upsets your stomach." "It'll be fine, Aziraphale," Crowley waves a hand. "Besides, the babies want it, so I probably shouldn't refuse."

"Oh, when you put it like that, of course dear, I'll whip that up for you," Aziraphale smiles and kisses Crowley's forehead before walking over to the fridge. "I made some lemon-blueberry bars for Anathema and I just took them out of the oven."

Crowley rests his hand on his hand as he watches his gorgeous husband cook for him and unthinkingly places his other hand on his small bump. Last night he and Aziraphale, well mostly Aziraphale, had noticed that his bump had grown a bit and was now looking like a tiny baby bump rather than Crowley had just eaten a large meal. Of course, to other people who weren't looking for a bump, it still did look like Crowley had gone to town on a large dinner with Aziraphale, but it had been extremely joyous for the demon and the angel and both had cried a bit. Crowley wonders if the twins will be two boys or two girls or a boy and a girl. Are the twins identical or fraternal? He wonders what they will look like when they're born. He had a dream the other night of their babies, but he hadn't told Aziraphale; he saw a girl and a boy, both around four or five, the boy had curly red hair and blue eyes and was sweet and quiet like Aziraphale, and the girl had straight blonde hair with amber eyes and was rambunctious and sassy like Crowley.

Crowley is then brought out of his thoughts when Aziraphale sets a heaping plate of French toast in front of him, which he promptly begins to devour. 

"Oh, these are _amazing_!" Crowley moans, already halfway through his plate. "I'm definitely not going to be able to button my pants after this."

"If there's any trouble I saw one of those hacks on the internet- you can use a rubber band around the button if your pants won't close," Aziraphale says.

"That sounds sexy," Crowley wrinkles his nose at the thought of a rubber band being the only thing holding his pants together. On the bright side, it was getting colder so his bump will be hidden by a loose shirt and a sweater or jacket. Hopefully he doesn't experience any of those hot flashes the book warned him about.

\--------------

"Aziraphale, Crowley, thank you for coming," Anathema says, smiling as the two supernatural beings enter the house. 

"I made these for you," Aziraphale says once they enter the kitchen. "I know you said we didn't need to bring anything but I just hate to show up empty-handed."

"Oh thank you, Aziraphale," Anathema smiles. "I can set these out with the other snacks; I'm sure they're delicious. Shadwell and Tracy are actually out of town so it's just us today. Newt will be back soon, he needed to run to the store since I forgot to get things to make sandwiches. Come, sit down, I can take your jackets if you want."

"Thank you dear," Aziraphale says, handing her his coat.

"Thanks but no thank you, I'm a bit cold from the weather," Crowley says. "You know, cold-blooded and all that."

"Of course," Anathema says, putting Aziraphale's coat in the closet. "I wasn't sure since I know you get cold easily but you looked a bit flushed, so I wasn't sure. It's probably just the cold, but you look great! Are you doing anything different? Your face and your aura are glowing."

Crowley and Aziraphale exchange a look before Crowley replies, "No I haven't done anything new, it must be the cold." The three of them sit down and Anathema pours them all some tea.

"There's no caffeine in here, right?" Aziraphale asks as Anathema pours Crowley a cup. Crowley had assured Aziraphale that most doctors said a bit of caffeine is fine as long as it isn't excessive, but Aziraphale was so concerned over an article he read about the effects of caffeine on a baby or pregnancy that Crowley had just decided to forget about caffeine in order to prevent Aziraphale from worrying.

"No, this is an herbal blend that has no caffeine," Anathema says. "I've been trying to cut back, but if you want something caffeinated I still have some black tea."

"Oh no, dear this is perfect," Aziraphale replies, taking a sip of his tea before biting into an eclair.

They sit and talk for a little while, or rather Anathema and Aziraphale do most of the talking while Crowley stuffs his face as discreetly as he can. Everything Anathema had for them was so good and he can't wait for the sandwiches Newt's bringing. He hopes Newt brings some cucumber sandwiches.

Suddenly Newt bursts through the door carrying a tray of sandwiches and some bags, saying, "Alright, so I got some cheddar and tomato sandwiches, some crackers with a smoked salmon spread, some groceries I forgot yesterday, and these really awesome crab sandwiches they were sampling that tasted _amazing_. They're to die for I've eaten four already and I'm not even a huge fan of crab."

Aziraphale, however, is a fan of crab and looks ecstatic at the thought of trying these sandwiches, but his smile falters when he notices how pale Crowley has become in the last minute or so. The demon's forehead is now a bit shiny and he looks to be trying to swallow with some difficulty. 

_No no no. Not now. I was just enjoying myself. I felt fine all day._ Crowley thinks bitterly to himself as nausea rolls in his gut. The second Newt walked through the door, Crowley got a large whiff of crab, which he knows is crazy since crab sandwiches never have a strong smell, and immediately began to feel sick. The smell of any seafood had been an instant puke button during the pregnancy as they had found out on their last outing at The Ritz and the other time when they had gone to the supermarket and the seafood section had sent Crowley running to the bathroom, but those had been strong smells and these sandwiches shouldn't be bothering him so much. His stomach heaves and he feels his mouth begin to water as he keeps his mouth tightly shut around a gag and knows he needs to get to a bathroom or something fast.

"I'll be right back," Crowley says in a wobbly voice as he rises from the couch. Aziraphale looks at him with concern as he calmly but quickly goes to the bathroom only thinking to himself _Do not vomit on the floor._

A few moments later, Anathema, Newt, and Aziraphale hear the unmistakeable sounds of Crowley puking his guts out in the bathroom and collectively wince in sympathy. Aziraphale then speaks up.

"I'll go make sure he's alright," Aziraphale says, immediately getting up and walking over to knock on the bathroom door. "Dearest, it's Aziraphale. May I come in?"

Crowley would have responded in that moment, but his body instead decides to expel some more eclair-tea-scone-lemon-blueberry bar-French toast mix into the toilet. He feels Aziraphale's hand on his back when that round finishes and Aziraphale rubs circles as he dry heaves a bit before he feels better. Well, better enough to wipe his mouth and flush the toilet before getting up and rinsing his mouth. Not better enough to want to go back out and eat some more.

"It was the crab sandwiches?" Aziraphale asks, though the angel already knows the answer. Crowley nods before spitting the water out into the sink. Thank _someone _that his first trimester is almost over.__


End file.
